


Pulled Punches

by ClareGuilty



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Fluff, Love Confessions, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClareGuilty/pseuds/ClareGuilty
Summary: After a nightmare, you confess your feelings for Soldier 76. Things get... heated.Gift fic for a darling friend! <3
Relationships: Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison/Reader
Comments: 21
Kudos: 143





	Pulled Punches

**Author's Note:**

> this was a gift fic for a friend that turned into 3k and im not complaining i love my boy

“You’re pulling your punches,” Jack crossed his arms. You could imagine his look of disapproval behind his visor.

“No I’m not.” Your response was immediate. Childish. He may have been right, after all. You flipped the grip on your training knife, taking a defensive stance.

“You aren’t attacking with your full weight. If you don’t put more force into it, you won’t do any lasting damage.” 

It was frustrating, training CQC with a literal supersoldier. You were untrained, yet you were going up against someone twice your size and with years more experience than you. Jack had beat you every single round for the last half hour, but he refused to let up.

Even though he had his visor on, he was dressed down to just a black tshirt and pants without any of his armor or gear. It was hot as hell in the desert, and you had followed suit in just a loose sleeveless top and some leggings. It was becoming harder and harder to focus as your heart pounded with exertion and Jack’s muscles flexed under his shirt. Why the hell was he so ripped? You had watched him rip a steel door off its hinges two days ago, and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the way his biceps moved under his sleeves.

“Agent, focus,” he snapped. You glared at him. 

“Focus on what?” you asked, cocking your head. You were getting tired of this.

Your insubordination must have struck a nerve, because Jack darted forward in an instant, knife drawn faster than you could blink. You sidestepped, ducking under his outstretched arm and taking a few quick swipes at his midsection. He knocked you with his unarmed elbow, and you stumbled back. A boot swept behind your ankles. Suddenly, you were looking up at Jack as he knelt to roll you and pin your knife arm behind your back.

“Fuck you,” you hissed.

He chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. “You need to attack from your core, that’s the only way you’ll have enough strength to disarm your opponent. Don’t worry about hurting me. I can take it.”

“Let me up,” you hit the ground. You didn’t want to admit that you liked the heat of Jack’s hand against your back, or the feeling of his weight on top of you.

He relented, stepping back as you pulled yourself to your feet and readjusted your stance yet again. You were pissed. This whole thing felt pointless. You would never be able to beat Jack. Would you even be good enough to make it out in the field? You had been traveling with Soldier 76 for a few months, and it was hard not to feel like dead weight. He was an ex commander. You were just some naive kid who didn’t know when to quit.

So you squared your shoulders and readied your blade. Jack only seemed amused by your anger. He probably thought it was pitiful.

Except when he attacked this time, you didn’t just sidestep. You dropped low underneath his attack, stepping in close and headbutting him right in the stupid fucking visor.

The impact made your vision go white. Still, you shoved into him with everything you could manage, forcing him back half a step. His balance was unshakeable, but you were too damn mad to even bother taking him down. You just went for blow after blow until he pushed you off of him.

It was a quick reset for you, and you lunged again. This time, he trapped your arm with his, blocking your next swing. You reached to grapple, but he trapped that arm as well. Your leg was lifted and you went down swiftly but gently.

You were pinned beneath Jack, snarling and furious. He pulled the knife from your hand far too easily for your liking. 

“That was great,” he praised you, never breaking his hold on you. “Much better.”

“You motherfucker. Don’t patronize me.” You were fed up with Jack constantly talking down to you.

“I’m not,” he insisted. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Just get the fuck off me,” you shoved at him. He backed off and offered a hand to help you up, which you ignored. You stormed back to the bunker, fed up with sparring for the day.

The bunker was an old shelter from the omnic crisis, set into the side of a hill and pretty well fortified as well as off the grid. You didn’t question how Jack knew to find it, or how well stocked it was -- as though someone had been through recently and replenished the supplies. It was one room with an adjoining bathroom, minimal counter space, gas cooktop, low cots scattered about and an old sofa with a coffee table strewn with incomplete decks of cards.

Jack didn’t come back inside until later; he probably wanted to give you a chance to cool off. 

“I’ve got food,” he announced as he pushed open the heavy door. The smell of meat and corn hit your nose, and suddenly you were much more forgiving.

You dug into your portion. Jack ate on the other side of the room, but you could feel his eyes on you. 

“What?” you demanded around a mouthful of food.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. “You are the most insubordinate little shit I’ve ever had the pleasure of traveling with -- and that includes Jesse McCree of all people.”

You scowled and turned away.

“I’m very proud of you,” Jack said, and you nearly choked on your food. “You learn fast, and you train hard. It’s good to see you’re improving every day.”

“It’s not enough,” you shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘not enough’? You’re picking up combat skills on the fly as fast as any of the best recruits I trained back in Overwatch. I’m amazed at how well you understand everything, it doesn’t come easy to everyone.”

“But it’s not fast enough,” you turned to face him. “I’m still years behind everyone else. Shrike? Reaper? Widowmaker? They’re the best at what they do. Even the fucking cowboy can aim while he’s drunk. If I keep dragging you down, you’re going to get hurt.”

Jack seemed shocked by your outburst. “I wouldn’t keep you around if I didn’t think you could handle it. I knew the risks when I let you travel with me.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You weren’t sure what you wanted to hear. “I’m going to shower and get some sleep.” Your chair scraped across the floor.

You had grown used to the closeness that came with traveling with Soldier 76. The shared space, the unspoken boundaries. He had spent years living in close quarters with other soldiers on the field. Your life had left you no stranger to such things either. 

Except for the feelings you constantly tried to push down. The respect and adoration for this hero who had picked you up off the ground. You had tried to play it off as admiration for his service, and a stupid celebrity crush, misplaced feelings because Jack was the only person you saw most days. But that wasn’t the truth. It was something deeper, something dangerous. You had fallen for this man who was training you, caring for you. 

Too bad he would never feel the same.

‘Agent.’ ‘Recruit.’ That’s all you were. Jack was a hero, more than you would ever be. You were nothing to him. It hurt. You settled in on your cot, facing the wall and counting the minutes until Jack turned the lights off. 

-

You woke up screaming. Gasping for air. Someone was there, and you lashed out without thinking.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Jack’s rough voice brought you back to reality. “It’s me. I’m right here.”

Jack. He was alive. He was safe. You fisted your hands in the worn material of his shirt and buried your face in his chest. Your cheeks were wet with tears.

“You had a nightmare,” he said calmly. “Have you been having them recently?”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately in case he tried to disappear. “Ever since we faced Reaper in Mexico City.”

Jack hummed. He was thinking. “You’re worried he could have killed you?”

“I’m worried he could have killed  _ you _ ,” you shuddered. “He almost did.”

A hand smoothed down your back, rubbing large circles. “He’s almost killed me a hundred times.”

“Not helping.”

“No,” Jack breathed, “I guess not.” He moved to sit on the tiny cot, pulling you into his lap and holding you to him. “I thought you would be glad to be rid of me? No one to kick your ass in training.”

“Still not helping,” you said.

“Alright. I promise I’m not going anywhere. I’m too damn stubborn and petty to die at this point. And these days I’ve actually got something to fight for. Something worth protecting.” His voice, normally so strong and commanding, wavered just a bit. 

“What’s that?” You finally looked up at him, tear-stained and trembling. 

He leaned down and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“You bastard,” you cursed and beat a fist against his chest.

“What did I do this time?” He asked. He was smiling, you could hear it.

“Don’t you know I’m in love with you?” It wasn’t how you wanted to confess. You hadn’t wanted to confess at all. You were fine taking your feelings to the grave rather than face this kind of vulnerability.

He froze. A moment of careful consideration. Risk evaluation. 

“I thought you were smarter than that,” he finally admitted.

“I thought I was too,” you huffed.

“You need sleep,” he said, trying to change the subject.

“You’re supposed to tell me to get over it.” Why was he still holding you? Why hadn’t he pushed you away? He should have been disgusted. Offended.

“What?”

“You’re supposed to tell me that I’m a reckless kid and I need to get over my feelings for you.” You needed that closure, needed a push in the right direction.

“I… can’t do that.” He sounded miserable. Defeated.

“I thought you were a hero?” Why were you still letting him hold you? Why were you so comfortable in his arms? You should have been disgusted.

“I’m a sad old fool. And I love you too.”

It should have been the type of revelation that made everything change. You should have felt your heart race and your cheeks flush and it should have been everything you had ever dreamed. Instead, you were coming off an adrenaline crash after your nightmare, and you could barely keep your eyes open as you breathed in the smell of leather and pulse munitions.

You would deal with this later. Everything later.

-

You woke groggy and way warmer than you would have liked to be. Lifting your head, you realized you were sleeping on Jack’s chest, one of his arms thrown around you protectively.

“Oh, fuck,” you groaned.

“I feel that,” Jack said, not moving. He had probably been awake for a while, lying perfectly still. Was he scared of something?

“You’re not actually in love with me, are you?” You squinted, trying to remember what dumb shit you had said last night.

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“Am I in trouble?” you asked.

“What would you be in trouble for?” Jack pushed up to his elbows, letting you sit against the wall and drag your hands down your face.

“I don’t know? You’re the commander or whatever. Isn’t it against the rules for me to want to fuck you?”

Jack made a choked sound. He flushed pink to the tips of his ears before finding his words. “Well, I’m not a commander anymore. And I think I’d be in even bigger trouble for wanting to be with you.”

It was your turn to stutter and flail. The thought of your feelings being reciprocated was still foreign. “We’re fucking idiots,” you groaned.

“Well,” Jack said, “What do you want to do next?”

“What do I want to do?” you asked incredulously. “If I had my way, you’d be pinning me to this cot, and I wouldn’t be able to remember my own name.”

It was a bluff. An exaggeration. An attempt to break the tension. You didn’t think he would take it seriously.

He moved too quickly. You didn’t stand a chance, still half asleep and reeling. And there you were, on your back, staring up at Jack’s gorgeous blue eyes as he smirked and settled his weight on top of you.

“Have I ever told you that you run your mouth off too much?” he asked.

For once, you were speechless. No witty remark, no spitfire comeback. You just wanted Jack to kiss you, but you couldn’t even find the words to ask for it.

“That’s better,” he teased you. He leaned down to capture your lips with his own and you moaned against his mouth. It was everything you had dreamed it would be. And you had dreamed about this  _ a lot _ .

You rolled your hips up to grind against Jack. He groaned low in his throat and rocked back against you. “You’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable?”

“Just don’t stop,” you fisted your hands in his shirt and pulled him to you. You had only gotten this far by some fluke, and you weren’t about to let it slip away. Your hands wandered everywhere, broad shoulders, thick arms, hard chest, firm ass. Jack seemed all too pleased by your admiration, he basked in it with a cocky grin. “Kiss me you cocky piece of shit,” you rolled your eyes.

A firm hand grabbed at your ass, and Jack growled in your ear, “Is that any way to speak to your commander?”

You moaned and let your head tip back so he could drag his teeth over your pulse point. It was a blinding sensation, and you retaliated by grabbing Jack’s cock through his pants. He was hard already. His grip on your ass tightened, a low moan escaping him.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart? You want Daddy’s cock?” He forced you to meet his eyes, holding your gaze as he waited for a response.

“Fuck that’s hot. That’s kinda weird, but it’s hot. Why is it hot?” You weren’t expecting it, but the way it made your stomach flip -- you were definitely into it.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I want you to fuck me,” you huffed.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, kissing you once more. This time, the two of you shed clothes piece by piece. Jack marveled at your chest when you tossed your shirt to the ground. He brushed his rough fingers over your nipples, delighting at your reaction. He didn’t need any encouragement to begin kissing over the sensitive skin, taking your nipples into his mouth.

“Jack,” you moaned.

“That’s it sweetheart. Tell Daddy what you want.” He pulled your leggings off and nudged your thighs apart, teasing you with delicate fingers.

You hated it. Hated having to ask for such dirty, embarrassing things when Jack clearly knew what you wanted. But damn if it didn’t make you wet.

“Inside --” You squeezed your eyes shut and bucked your hips. “I need you inside of me, Daddy.”

It was the magic word. Jack couldn’t control himself after hearing it. He stroked your clit and pressed a finger inside of you, quickly adding a second. You moaned and palmed his cock as best you could through his underwear. He was big -- bigger than you had imagined. Damn super soldiers.

It felt amazing, and you would have been happy to come just like that, but Jack wanted more.

“I need to be inside you,” he growled. He kicked off the last of his clothes, stroking his cock before settling between your legs. “Is that okay, baby?”

You nodded, trying to pull him in closer to you. “Please,” you whined.

He rubbed his cock along your entrance, pressing the tip in slightly. “I’ve got you,” he pulled you against him as he pressed forward. It was a stretch, but Jack kissed you so sweetly, whispering to you. He waited, watched your expression and held still until you gave him permission to move.

It was slow, careful, at first. Both of you trying to match the other. You finally found a rhythm that felt right, and Jack began to move quicker and quicker, harder and harder. You clung to him tightly, kissing sloppily over his neck and jaw. It felt so good, everything you had ever wanted. 

Jack’s hand slipped between your bodies, a few strokes over your clit and you came around his cock. He held you as you shook and gasped, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

“That’s it, baby.” He laid you gently on your back. “Let Daddy take care of you.”

He didn’t slow, continuing to fuck you as you worked through the aftershocks of your orgasm. He was getting closer. The pace of his hips faltered. “I’m close,” he moaned.

He pulled out as he came, stroking himself and spilling across your chest. It was messy, and you would have been annoyed if it wasn’t so damn hot. Jack stilled for a moment, but he made no move to lay down or clean up.

“Jack?” you asked. He leaned forward and kissed you, pressing your foreheads together,

“Are you able to go again?” he asked.

You were surprised, but you found yourself nodding. Jack was just as careful this time, making sure you were as comfortable as possible before taking you once more. He worked you to a slower, softer orgasm.

You came down from the high, and things started to become too much. It wasn’t the same blinding pleasure anymore. Jack didn’t seem to be tired at all. He brushed your hair out of your eyes, trailing a thumb over your lips. “Hold on, baby. Just a little bit more.”

He came again over your chest. You lay there painting as he shuddered through his second orgasm. This time, he wiped you down carefully, splitting a bottle of water with you. He pulled you close to him. 

“You’re still hard?” You felt his cock against you.

“Don’t worry about it -- super soldier shit.” He nuzzled against your skin. “We’re not training today. I just want to lay here.”

You were perfectly fine with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated <3
> 
> Check out my other fics on my [Tumblr](http://www.clareguilty.tumblr.com)
> 
> come say hi on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/Clare_guilty)


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